Poor Planning
by piaffe417
Summary: It was all a matter of poor planning on Sydney's part. Missing scene from "Unsafe Speed."


**Author's Note:** I've been writing "Law & Order: Criminal Intent" fiction for the last year or so and, while it's a favorite of my muse, I've been catching a lot of "Walker" reruns lately. Recently, I caught "Unsafe Speed" on USA, raising the questions: What happened in the over 24 hours that Gage and Sydney spent with the Raptors? Where did they sleep? Needless to say, I've attempted to answer my own questions. Hope you enjoy it.

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. Nothing, I say. In fact, I'm in debt – so shouldn't that mean that the characters owe _me_?

It was a matter of poor planning.

Texas Ranger Sydney Cooke stood in the doorway of the tiny bedroom (if one could call it that – the word "closet" may have been more of an apt description) that she was about to share with her partner, Ranger Francis Gage, and realized for the first time what _exactly_ the situation before her entailed. She then wondered with panicked haste why the possibility of this scenario hadn't occurred to her before.

It had, after all, seemed so simple when Cordell Walker, the senior Ranger in their department, outlined the assignment for the pair back in their office at Company B headquarters: Sydney and Gage were to pose as Ronnie and Nail, two motorcycle gang members and methamphetamine experts who were looking for the kind of not-quite-within-the-law work that was never listed in the Sunday classifieds. They would use their cover story to infiltrate the Raptors, a local gang who had recently plagued the greater Dallas area with their business dealings, and take them out. It was all in a day's work for the pair, the sort of undercover dealings that they performed on a regular basis with a great deal of success and a high rate of conviction.

_Wasn't it_?

Sydney thought back to the checklist she'd made in preparing for the undercover mission:

Make sure Walker and Gage let you have your own bike – check.

Study how meth is cooked and familiarize yourself with the newest innovations in production – check.

Purchase black leather clothing to appear in character – check.

Study Ronnie's background in order to answer personal questions – check.

Water plants in apartment in preparation for spending time away – check.

Nowhere in compiling her list had it ever occurred to her to add: "Share bedroom with partner to keep up appearance of being happy and committed couple – check."

Yes indeed, it was a matter of very poor planning on her part.

Of course, sleeping arrangements aside, she also hadn't considered the fact that she might also have to share a very convincing – make that _extremely_ convincing, as her toes were still curled up inside her heavy boots – kiss with Gage in celebration of their initiation into the gang that afternoon. But there had been no choice - the Raptors had just welcomed them into the group and were gathered around, cheering and clapping. They would have caught even the slightest sign that the pair was merely putting on an act if there had been any hesitation on the part of the Rangers. What was more, the moment was one charged with such excitement and triumph that it had come to feel real and the pair didn't think twice about falling into each other's arms to share it. Gage's arm had fit snugly around Sydney's shoulders and his embrace was warm and comfortable, his lips finding hers tenderly.

And if either of them had meant to hold back in order to maintain their professional distance, even in such an intimate setting, they had failed miserably in the attempt because the moment their mouths joined, it was as though an electric spark had been struck. All sense of propriety went out the window as the kiss deepened and intensified until Sydney finally remembered where she was and what she was supposed to be doing and pulled away, trying not to appear as sheepish as she felt.

Immediately afterward, she had made a point to head off with the other women in the Raptor group in an effort to avoid her partner and had noticed that he also beat a hasty retreat in the opposite direction. The separation had worked too – until now. With night fallen and darkness enveloping the sky, the members of the gang had begun to disperse from the campfire they'd been clustered around, heading to their respective sleeping quarters in the ramshackle cluster of buildings they called home. Deke, one of their fellow gang members, had gestured to a tiny room at the back of the main building and indicated that "Nail" and "Ronnie" should find it to their liking.

"Sleep tight," he'd winked in a lewd manner, flicking a cigarette butt onto the ground and crushing it beneath his boot heel before turning to follow a curvy blonde into one of the other rooms.

"Thanks a lot," Sydney had muttered under her breath as he departed. She turned to face her partner, a bit nervous as to what she'd find when she searched his face with her eyes, and was rather relieved to see that he looked as uncomfortable as she was.

"Uh," he gestured weakly towards the room, eyes dropping to the ground so as not to meet hers, "after you?"

She passed him wordlessly, her stomach flipping back and forth and her palms growing damp as she thought about the next several hours ahead of her – probably a full eight with the way that her luck was holding at the moment. Eight hours in a room with her partner – her partner whom she'd kissed only a few hours before and her partner who was supposed to be her coworker and friend and nothing more. Eight hours of pretending that the kiss hadn't sent a jolt through her from head to toe. Eight hours of acting as though she hadn't felt safe and comfortable enough to stay in Gage's arms forever. Eight hours of trying not to give any indication that she found her partner to be attractive and appealing and that, despite all of her protests to the contrary, she really did care about him in a way that went beyond their professional relationship.

In short: eight hours of torture.

The room appeared to have been designed with Sydney's discomfort in mind, she noticed as she surveyed its interior with a skeptical eye. Barely twelve feet square, it was home to a rickety-looking pull out sofa with cigarette burns in the cushions and arms, a rocking chair that was missing two slats from the back, an ancient rug that was covered in enough dirt that it would blend perfectly with the ground if it were thrown outside, and an old apple crate that was meant to serve as a bedside table. A tiny window offered a glimpse at the stars outside and allowed a shaft of moonlight to illuminate the room with relative success, giving shape and form to the objects within. The window had been opened by someone earlier in the evening and a slight breeze came in from the south, circulating the air that seemed thick and choking to Sydney (though it might have been due to her panicked state) and moving the tattered curtains that had once been white about with gentle fingers.

Absolutely at a loss for what to do, she felt herself stop inside the doorway and drop the black saddlebags containing her belongings onto the wooden floor with a thud.

Gage, close on her heels, wasn't expecting her motion to cease and ran unceremoniously into the back of her, jolting her thoughts back into the moment.

"Hey, why don't you give some sort of signal if you're going to…" Gage began to protest, then trailed off as he saw the reason for his partner's sudden halt. "Oh boy."

"Oh boy is right," Sydney breathed, moving just inside the door so that he could enter the room too.

"Honey, I'm home," he muttered under his breath, tossing his saddlebags to the side as Sydney had done and surveying the space before him.

Suddenly remembering who they were supposed to be and the nature of the situation that they were in, Sydney hastily turned to make sure that none of the other Raptors had witnessed their reaction, pulling the door shut just enough so that she could peer out into the darkened hallway. No one stirred and she breathed a sigh of relief, closing the door with only a slight amount of difficulty (as it wasn't completely in line with its frame) and fastening the flimsy lock more for appearances than anything else, as its hook and loop closure would afford the two Rangers very little protection from anyone who truly wanted to get inside.

Unsure of how thin the walls of the house were (but suspecting that they were probably useless as sound barriers), she spoke softly and used Gage's undercover name. "Nail, I'm not sure about this."

"Come on, Ronnie – we've stayed in worse places," he shot her a half-hearted grin and approached the pull-out sofa with the trepidation of one approaching a snarling dog, as though he was afraid that it would bite him the moment he touched it. (At that particular point, Sydney would not have been surprised if it had.)

Whether it was the earlier events of the day, the frayed condition of her nerves, or her annoyance at her partner's attempt at humor in what she considered to be a dire situation, Sydney wasn't sure. All she knew was that one moment she was standing by the closed door and the next she was toe to toe with Gage, hissing: "This is not funny, Gage! What are we supposed to do?"

"Easy, Shorty," he held up his hands in defense, clearly surprised by her sudden outburst, voice a husky whisper. "We're supposed to get some sleep. I thought that was obvious…"

His words only incited another forcefully quiet outburst from her. "That's not what I mean and you know it! There's only one bed here, there are two of us, and the floor is no doubt crawling with all manner of God knows what. So how exactly would you propose that we get some sleep, _Francis_?"

She never called him by his first name and it was undoubtedly this slip of the tongue that alerted him to her true state of mind. In the blink of an eye, his outward jovial manner dissipated and was replaced with the sort of sincere concern that he normally reserved for victims and children. His gentleness in the rare moments when he displayed that part of his personality never failed to impress and touch her – and this time was no different. The instant she recognized the change in him, she felt her tense muscles unclench and some of the breath that she had been holding was released from her chest. They were, after all, in this together and they'd been in worse situations before – which Gage was quick to remind her.

"Hey, Syd," he whispered, obviously noting (as she had) that there was a chance of being overheard through the flimsy walls. "It's awful, but it's not impossible. We'll make do."

"And when was the last time we were stuck in a place like this?" she asked dryly, frowning at him.

"Well, never," he admitted, allowing a partial grin to escape. "But we _have_ been in uncomfortable situations before and come through just fine." A pause, then he added as an aside, "This is just uncomfortable to the tenth power."

She was able to smile at him then, a gesture that removed a bit more of the lingering tension from her and seemed to put him at ease as well. That they both felt the same amount of awkwardness in this situation calmed her, for it meant that Gage wasn't reading any more into the afternoon's kiss than was necessary. It had simply been a part of their cover and nothing more – right?

Wrong.

As Sydney moved to help him work the rickety framework out of the cushions so that the bed could be set up, their hands fumbled over the tops of each other and Sydney felt the same spark that she had felt that afternoon – so much so that she immediately ceased her work and stepped away from her partner, arms crossing nervously in front of her as she began to nervously chew on a finger nail. Gage, too, had visibly felt the reaction when their hands touched and he stood a few feet away, eyes focused on the floor while one absentminded hand scratched the back of his neck nervously. He seemed to be searching for something to say, for some way to defuse the situation but she gave him no time.

"I knew this wouldn't work," Sydney muttered, though not so softly that her partner couldn't hear. All of the tension that she'd thought was gone had re-manifested itself and her stomach had resumed its tense jerking.

And her words helped Gage find his own voice.

When she had finished speaking, something in Gage snapped so violently that Sydney swore she could see it, despite the dimness of the room. With a vigorous shake of his head and an angry sigh, her partner picked up his leather jacket and his saddle bags and made for the door, saying in a disgusted tone, "Well at least I was willing to try."

She knew without even asking him what he was prepared to do. In the six steps that it took for him to cross the room, Sydney could see his plan unfold before her eyes: he would march into the hall, slam the door behind him and wake the rest of the Raptors with his anger (which was, unfortunately, not a part of their act). When asked what was wrong, he would tell the truth – that he and his "old lady" were not getting along and that he needed other sleeping quarters for the night. No doubt Deke and the other Raptors would provide it too – complete with another woman to keep him warm and make "Ronnie" jealous.

And she would be.

Sydney realized that the moment that the image flitted into her mind of Gage with another woman that she would hate it. She always did, in fact – no matter where they were or what they were doing, she always felt a twisting sensation inside whenever she saw her partner with another woman. And she realized that, somewhere along the line, she had come to view her partner as belonging to her and her alone and the idea of losing him unnerved her. She had known from her reaction when they kissed that afternoon that she had crossed an unspoken line in her feelings for Gage (had known it before their lips had even touched, in fact) but it his anger and the prospect of their relationship becoming irreparable – not just for the night, but for good – that gave her the courage to speak.

"Wait," she said the word as loudly as she dared, but it was sufficient because he turned. When he didn't speak but merely stared at her expectantly, she hastily gathered her wits and said, "I'm sorry. I… I'm just sorry, okay?"

He looked dumbfounded – and in a minute she learned why. "That's it? You're just sorry?" He crossed the room to stand before her, eyes peering into her own. "You don't trust me in the least and all you can do is say that you're sorry? I expected more from you, Syd."

"Don't trust you? Where did you get that idea?" she gasped.

He gave a quick and sardonic smile. "Gee, I don't know – maybe it's the way you've been acting since we stepped into this room. You've been dancing around me for the last twenty minutes like you're afraid I'm going to reach out and grab you. I do have a sense of propriety, you know. I understand that we're working and that it's in our best interests not to allow our judgment to be clouded by anything, especially not a kiss that – no matter how great it might have been - was nothing more than an act."

And if the cracks in the floorboards had been any wider at that moment, Sydney would have willed herself to fall right through. Her partner had read her every thought and, what's more, he was hurt.

"Gage, I…" she began, but he cut her off.

"You know what? Don't bother," he shook his head in frustration and tossed his jacket and saddlebags back onto the floor. "It's late and we're both tired. Let's just forget everything. I'll take the floor, you take the bed and we'll talk in the morning."

"No," she said with as much finality as she could muster. He looked at her questioningly, so she continued. "We can share the bed. It's not that I don't trust you, Gage. It's just that with everything… _I_ just…"

She faltered but was relieved to see that the anger had gone out of his features. In fact, he was peering at her with something akin to bemused interest. True to his usual teasing nature, however, he let her fumble awkwardly with a few more nonsense syllables before cutting her off.

"Look, Syd," he held up a hand to stop her, eyes twinkling with amusement at her tongue-tied state. "It's late and we're both in no condition to get into this tonight. Yeah, we kissed and yeah, it was pretty good if I do say so myself. But the most important thing happening right now is this bust and we'll never get it done if we're worrying about kissing or if we're short on sleep. So why don't you take that side of the bed, I'll take the other and I promise not to snore too loudly. Is it a deal?"

Sydney still felt embarrassed at her over-reaction to the situation at hand, even as she agreed with a quick nod of her head and crawled onto the rickety bed, fully clothed. The springs creaked and groaned in protest and the whole contraption shuddered violently a moment later when Gage joined her, also still clad in his biker gear. She faced the wall, her back to him, and she felt him shift and roll into a comfortable position behind her, then heard a sigh that indicated he'd settled in for the night.

Her lips curved into a smile at the simplicity of it all, at the way she suddenly felt comfortable with him beside her and the way that he had (as usual) read her mind. And suddenly it didn't seem like such a bad idea that they had kissed that afternoon. In fact, it even seemed somehow… right. Yet her reverie was interrupted as Gage shifted yet again and his back collided with hers hard enough to almost push her to the floor.

"Gage!" she hissed, flaying her left arm behind her in an attempt to move him back to his designated side.

"Sorry, Syd," he whispered and she felt him roll over to face her. "This fold out is smaller than it looks."

"Well you've certainly spread yourself out enough," she rolled over then too and sought his eyes in the darkness. "Can you just lay still?"

"I'm trying," he protested. "But there's a spring sticking out over here."

Sydney rolled her eyes in exasperation, for now that they'd agreed to put their argument on the back burner and she was feeling at ease, the day's exertions were catching up with her.

Firmly, she told him, "Just lay still, okay?"

Silence was his answer and neither spoke for a long stretch until he asked softly, "Hey, Syd?"

"Hmm?" she was halfway between awake and asleep by then, her thoughts hazy and scattered.

"My arm's falling asleep – would you mind if I moved it?" he wanted to know.

"Make it quick," she mumbled, not even bothering to open her eyes. So close to the brink of sleep was she, in fact, that she barely noticed when her partner's arm shifted until it was around her, pulling her into his chest, and his other wrapped around her shoulders.

_I'll have to thank him for sharing the covers_, she thought as she snuggled in closer, breathing in the smell of leather mixed with campfire smoke and the barest hint of her partner's aftershave. _And then I'll have to punch him for trying such a cheap and tacky pickup method as the old 'let me move my arm' trick._

But as sleep finally overwhelmed her and she relaxed into Gage's embrace, Sydney's last conscious thought was that maybe the situation she found herself in wasn't a matter of poor planning after all; maybe it was luck.

And maybe – just maybe – she'd find the courage to tell Gage that one day.

FIN


End file.
